


Barrels and Swabs

by Gebo



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Plunkett and Macleane (1999)
Genre: Anyelle, Crossover, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:10:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gebo/pseuds/Gebo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plunkett is doing a bit of gun cleaning. Belle wants him to teach her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barrels and Swabs

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to temporalteatime for beta-ing this for me. <3
> 
> I wanted to play with these characters as if they were already in a relationship, before I go back and build them up in my other two stories. So this is just a random stand-alone. Enjoy!

“What are you doing?” Belle asked as she crept up behind Will. One hand rested gently on his shoulder, while there other trailed up his neck to drag the ends of his hair through her fingers. She felt him shiver and smiled.

“Same thing I do after every job, Belle,” Will replied, sparing her a glance. “I’m cleaning the guns.” Not having another stool, she folded her legs neatly in front of her and sat beside him to watch. He worked methodically, using thin brass rods to push and pull various instruments into and out of the gun barrel. There seemed to be a pattern, but with little knowledge of the inner workings of a flintlock pistol, Belle had little idea of what the purpose of each tool was. Occasionally he would reach across her to a pile of threadbare scraps of cloth and would run these over the outside of the gun, as though to polish it. When he set the finished pistol aside and reached for another, Belle’s hand shot out and caught his forearm easily. He looked up at her, surprised somewhat by the sudden firmness, but she only smiled.

“Show me?” It was a request, not a demand. If he refused, she would not press the subject. He had been adamant about keeping her innocent to the ways of his profession, the use of firearms and black powder included. Still, she had grown accustomed to the musty sulfuric smell of the powder on his clothes and on his skin, to the grey-black speckles he often had upon his hands, neck, and chest that turned to smudges when they mingled with his sweat. She delighted in these things, even, for they were so fundamentally  _William Plunkett_.

But now, watching his nimble hands at work on his beloved pistols, she had a strong urge to learn something, to expand her mind. With an effort to battle her skirts, Belle moved closer to his feet, hand still firmly holding his arm.

“Please. I want to learn something. I’ve been so very bored cooped up in these musty old rooms.”

Will gave her a knowing smile. He knew as well as she did that he would not be able to keep her here for much longer. She had a taste for adventure, Belle did, and a spirit to match. She wanted to be brave and fight for the same cause as did he and James Macleane. She was going to get out there at some point or another and he knew it. So, he may as well instruct her in something that she really wasn’t in danger of harming herself from.

“Alright, come ‘ere.” He motioned for her to sit in front of him, between his legs. She grinned in delight and scooted towards him on her skirts until she was cozily nestled between his thighs, facing the plethora of tools in front of them. He grabbed the next gun and handed her a thin brass rod with a wire bristle on the end.

“First, we need to scrape off any powder what’s stuck on the inside of the barrel. This brush’ll fit. Give it a go.” She took the pistol from him, but before she could pull away with it, he had placed his hands over hers protectively. “Careful now. It may not be loaded, but you always respect your ‘arm.”

Belle placed the tip of the bristle brush at the opening of the barrel and again found his hands on hers, gently guiding the tool. Together, they pushed the brush into the gun, twisting their wrists slightly as they went. When he then made to pull her hand back and the brush with it, Belle could feel the grit on the sides of the barrel. He leaned her forward, his chin resting on her shoulder as he helped her tip the gun up as the brush came out, and she saw a tiny pile of grey and black dust form on the floor.

“Good. Very good.” Will seemed distracted, his head turned into her neck as he breathed her in. “Next, the swab. Same basic principal, but with this,” he help up a cotton thread-covered piece about as long as her little finger. It was attached to another thin brass rod. She took it dutifully and this time his hands slid from her hands up to caress gently at her wrists. She tried to focus on pushing the swab into the barrel, twisting it as she went, and pulling it back out. When she did, it was covered in black residue which caused her to wrinkle her nose and distracted her entirely from the progress his hands were making up her arms.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” she asked.

“Mm,” Plunkett replied vaguely, not looking at the swab in her hand. He brushed his lips lightly against the side of Belle’s neck, just under her ear. “Take another swab,” he murmured between kisses to the sensitive skin there. “It ought to come cleaner this time.”

Belle shivered deeply. She wondered just what he was playing at. She fully intended to master this and he was doing nothing but making it perfectly difficult to focus on what she was doing. His hands had found their way up to her shoulders, his fingers tracing patterns against her collarbones. Belle couldn’t suppress a moan as she pushed the new swab into the gun with a bit more force than she had intended.

“Good. That’s brilliant, love.” She turned her head to look at him and realized that his eyes were, in fact, fixed on the gun and the swab still lodged inside of it. His eyes were dark as he watched her work, his eyelids heavy. She looked at the gun in her hand and for the first time it occurred to her. With a mischievous smirk, she took the swab and gun back up and began twisting the rod about, pulling it out just slightly, then a bit more, attempting to get every inch of the barrel clean. Behind her, Will groaned softly.

“That’s it, see? Nothin’ to it….” But his hands slid down to her sides, fingers digging into her bodice, and his mouth returned to her earlobe, pulling it into his mouth. That was the final straw for Belle. She put the gun and tool aside firmly and spun up on her knees to face him.

“Mister Plunkett. I do believe you’ve forgotten to instruct me in the care for the outside of the weapon.” She reached forward and pulled lightly at the knot in his cravat, loosening it. Next she reached for the buttons of his breeches, undoing them with ease. He was already hardening for her, excited as he was by watching her clean the guns.

“Oh. Well, the outside is the easiest part, you see.” He grabbed one hand in each of his, interlacing the fingers of one hand, and the other he brought down to just barely brush against his cock. “You simply take a cloth and wrap your hand around the barrel,” he explained and demonstrated by wrapping her delicate fingers around the middle of his cock. “And rub….” She took over for him, allowing his hand to remain on hers as she pumped him gently. She smiled. This was something she had become familiar with in the few months she had stayed with him. She knew very well the power she could hold over him, with just a few words, or a touch. She squeezed a bit harder and he groaned loudly, his hand coming up to grip her shoulder as she knelt before him.

“Belle,” he moaned, fingers tightening and his head leaning back.

“Yes?” she asked, playing the innocent. Her hand continued its pattern of strokes up and down the length of his cock. She could tell that his control was closed to failing; his eyes always fluttered closed like that when he was about to….

“Ooh, fuck, Belle!” He pushed her away from him, leaning down to claim her lips in a brief kiss before he was turning her over onto her hands and knees. He hiked her skirts up over her arse in one strong movement. Next came her drawers, pushed down to her knees. She barely had time to draw another breath before he had plunged two fingers into her, causing her to cry out in surprise and pleasure.

Taking himself in hand, he busied himself with racking his middle finger over the little bundle of nerves that caused her to whimper and shake. It wasn’t until she spoke again that he changed his pattern.

“Again,” she whispered past a moan. “With the twist. Like you do with the gun.” He could not help but grin. He had never been superbly prideful in matters of the bedroom, had never taken to gloating with his mates over the size of his manhood or the women he’d bedded. Pistols, however, that was something he understood. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pressed a single finger inside of her, giving it a slow and easy twist until he buried the last knuckle. Then as he pulled it out, he twisted it quickly and she _screamed_  in ecstasy as her muscles contracted around his finger.

She was seeing stars, her limbs shaking to hold her on her hands and knees. She slumped forward, a signal to him that she could not stay that way on the hard wood floor much longer. Slowly, careful of the various tools of his trade littered on the floor about them, Will turned her over and placed himself between her thighs. Her drawers, he pulled down her legs one by one and tossed them aside carelessly.

He pressed the head of his cock against her and simply looked down at her, propped up on his arms above her.

“You won’t let me keep you safe forever, will you?” he asked, his tone serious and sounding distinctly out of place. Belle blinked up at him, raised her hand to his cheek and caressed it with her thumb.

“You can’t keep me in here forever, Will. I need to see the world. If I’m going to be with you, I want to be with all of you: William Plunkett the highwayman. I want to help you when you strike terror into the hearts of unsuspecting coachmen. I want to be by your side as you- OH!” He pushed himself inside of her in one smooth motion, catching her mid-sentence. She lifted her hand higher to tangle in his hair. Her other hand went to caress his lean back, feeling the muscles twitch as he moved inside of her.

As she arched into him, Belle’s head fell back against the floor. She didn’t wince and it didn’t really hurt, but Will nevertheless placed his hand under her head, leaning near to her on his elbow. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Belle,” he whispered, rocking gently against her. She bit her lip to stifle an unladylike groan. There was a tension building in her belly again and she wrapped her hands around Will’s shoulders and held tight.

It wasn’t long before her vision began to swim once more and she shut her eyes tightly. Her limbs tightened as what felt like every muscle in her body contracted and her release swept over her. She barely buried her face in his shoulder in time to muffle her scream. Above her, Will let out a deep groan and with a final thrust, spilled himself inside of her.

He collapsed on top of her, his body slight enough to be a pleasant covering without crushing her. With a shaking hand, she stroked her fingers through his hair, lacing strands of it around her fingers.

“You treat me as if I am some delicate, priceless jewel,” she murmured, craning her neck to look down at him where he rested against her collarbone. Drawing himself up, Will gave her a look like she had gone mad.

“You are, Belle. You’re the most precious…,” he trailed off, struggling to find words to express himself. “You’re a treasure to be protected. Like the King’s own crown jewels.” She smiled and lifted his face to kiss him.

“Don’t treat me like I’m going to break, Will.” She kissed him again, deeper this time. “I want to be in the world, not protected from it, and I’m going to be, one way or another. Would you not rather have me with you than alone again?”

Will gave her a tiny smile, though his eyes were worried.

“Yes… suppose so.”

“Good, then we have an understanding.” She pushed him back so that she could sit up and surveyed the scattered cleaning tools around them. “Now… what was the next step?”


End file.
